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Courtesy of the U. S. Bureau of Biological Survey 

“One golden evening in October the wild deer came to drink 
at the stream.” | Page 22] 






CHILDREN of 
OUR WILDS 

True Stories of '^eal oAnimals 

By 

LOU VILLINGER 



BECKLEY-CARDY COMPANY 
CHICAGO 


■Vitq 


r 




Copyright, 1930, by 
BECKLEY-CARDY COMPANY 


All Rights Reserved 


Printed in the United States of America 


DEC 15 SIS 

©CU 32197 


To GEORGE BELDEN 

A LOVER OF NATURE 
WHO GAVE ME THE STORY OF 
SPLIT-EAR 


ABOUT THESE STORIES 

This is a book of really true animal stories. 
Some of the animals I have known myself; of some 
of them my friends have told me. 

As you read the stories of these children of our 
wilds, you will see how like human children they 
are. You will discover that they think and feel 
and act much as you do. 

Look deep into the eyes of a wild animal and 
you will recognize there the lights of love and 
hate, joy and sorrow, courage and fear, longing 
and despair. 

I hope you will enjoy these stories and that they 
will help you to a better understanding of the 
children of our wilds. 

The Author 


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CONTENTS 


PAGE 

Shooting Star 

The Mule-Tail Deer.11 

Split-Ear 

The Black Bear of the Sequoias ..36 

Snow Queen 

The Polar Bear. 53 

Scamper 

The Gray Squirrel .73 

Satin Coat 

The Beaver.83 

Stickers 

The Porcupine. 99 

Stubby Tail 

The Cottontail Rabbit.114 

Smiles 

The Silver Fox .125 

Sanky 

The Southern Coon Child.136 


7 

















Children of Our Wilds 





Photo by the Author 


Ray named him Shooting Star 







SHOOTING STAR 


C HOOTING STAR is a mule-tail deer 
whose home is out West in our beauti¬ 
ful Yosemite Valley. He is strong and 
lithe and graceful, with long, forked ant¬ 
lers and swift, slender feet. 

The very day that he was born, his love¬ 
ly young mother was killed by a cruel 
mountain lion. 

It was the Range Rider, Ray Green, 
who found Shooting Star when he was just 
a few hours old. He took the orphan baby 
in his strong arms and carried him home 
on his horse. Blue Boy, and for two years 
the Ranger and the young deer were pals. 

Then one day, just as the second prong 
was sprouting on Star’s new horns, he 
went away and joined the wild deer and 
for a long time he and the Ranger did not 
see each other. 


11 



Photo by the Author 

Ray and Blue Boy liked to watch the sunrise together 




Shooting Star 


13 


But I must go back to the beginning and 
tell you this story just as the Ranger told 
it to me. 

It was summer in Yosemite. Ray, the 
Ranger, was out on the trail at dawn that 
first morning in July. He and Blue Boy 
liked the trails best when the buttercups, 
meadowsweet and primroses filled the air 
with perfume as they held up their dainty 
cups to catch the morning dew. 

That was the time the birds and squir¬ 
rels and rabbits opened their sleepy eyes 
and came out of their hiding places. It 
was then the bears trotted out into the 
open and the deer came to drink at the 
crystal streams. 

Ray and Blue Boy liked to watch the 
sunrise together. Sometimes it was at 
Mirror Lake they waited for the sun to 
creep up over Half Dome and dip his long 
slender fingers into the smooth water be¬ 
low. They knew that a few minutes later 


14 


Children of Our Wilds 


he would roll his shining face over the rim 
of the mountain and smile down at himself 
in the great looking-glass that Mother 
Nature has placed in the heart of the wilds 
for her children. 

And sometimes these two trail-mates 
would climb to some high peak and watch 
the sun paint the rainbow over the cliffs 
and waterfalls. 

The morning our story begins—that 
first morning in July—Ray and Blue Boy 
were climbing the trail to Glacier Point. 
The hills along this trail are covered with 
brush and shrubbery. 

One of the duties of a Ranger, you 
know, is to guard against fires. Every 
day Ray patrolled the trails to make sure 
that the summer visitors had put out their 
campfires and crushed their cigarettes. 

It was this duty which took him to Gla¬ 
cier Point that day. About halfway up the 
mountain, Ray stopped to get a drink from 


Shooting Star 


15 


a spring which trickled down the hillside. 
All at once he heard a cry—the cry of a 
deer in pain. Blue Boy knew that sound, 
too. He pointed his ears and looked at 
Ray with understanding eyes. In a mo¬ 
ment the Ranger was in the saddle. 

Up the hillside he and Blue Boy hurried. 
Suddenly a spotted baby fawn came roll¬ 
ing down through the tangled brush and 
landed right in front of them. Blue Boy 
stopped short. Ray jumped from the sad¬ 
dle and took the wobbly little thing in his 
arms. 

The frightened baby deer snuggled its 
velvet nose into Ray’s neck and began to 
cry, its little heart beating wildly. 

“Don’t cry, don’t cry, little one,” 
crooned Ray. “Your mother is around 
here somewhere. She’ll find you, don’t 
cry.” 

But the mother did not come. With the 
fawn in his arms, Ray jumped into the 


16 


Children of Our Wilds 


saddle and on up the hillside he and Blue 
Boy climbed. Finally they came to a tan¬ 
gled thicket. Ray parted the brush and 
what a sight met his eyes! 

There she lay, wounded and bleeding. 
And disappearing through the brush went 
the sleek, tawny form of a mountain lion. 
Instantly Ray laid the fawn down and 
pulled his gun. Blue Boy knew just what 
to do. He dropped and rolled over on his 
side like a dead horse. Ray crouched be¬ 
hind him and with the sure shot of a 
Ranger, he sent a bullet into the heart of 
the enemy who carries off about one deer 
a week in the Yosemite. 

The kind Ranger bathed the wounds of 
the dying doe and cooled her burning 
tongue with water from his canteen. 

When the wild mother saw her baby be¬ 
side her, a soft light came into her lovely 
eyes. With the last ounce of her strength, 
she lifted her head and licked the spotted 


Shooting Star 


17 



Photo by the Author 

Star drank his milk from a bottle just like a baby 

coat proudly. Then the light went out of 
those beautiful eyes forever. 

And that is how the Ranger and his 






18 


Children of Our Wilds 


little wild brother found each other. Ray 
named him Shooting Star, but for short 
he called him just Star, because the white 
spots on his coat looked like tiny stars. 

Many happy days followed this sad be¬ 
ginning, and many jolly good times Ray 
and Star and Blue Boy had together. Just 
like Mary and her lamb, you know—every¬ 
where the Ranger went that deer was 
sure to go. 

For the first four months of his life. 
Star drank his milk from a bottle just like 
a baby. His favorite way of taking it 
was standing on his hind feet with his fore 
feet hanging over Ray’s hand. 

When he was about six months old, the 
white spots disappeared and his coat 
changed from a reddish brown to a soft 
tan color. Then he began to want to eat 
everything. Every night and morning 
Ray gave him a big panful of bread and 
milk. And how he loved hot cakes! Once 


Shooting Star 


19 


he got into the cupboard and ate a whole 
plate of left-over hot cakes and all the 
vegetables, too. And once what do you 
think he did? He went into the bathroom 
and ate a big cake of soap! 

Until he was six months old, he slept 
in the cabin on a bed of pine needles. 
Every morning when it was time for wild 
things to awaken, he would stretch his 
slender legs and bound right over on 
Ray’s bed. And it didn’t make any dif¬ 
ference to him if he landed on top of his 
sleeping pal. Ray would cover up his head, 
but Star would nose his way under the 
covers, no matter how tightly they were 
tucked in. 

Sometimes Ray would put him out of 
doors. When he wanted his breakfast. 
Star would run up and down, pounding 
the porch with his hoofs, until Ray opened 
the door. 

As he grew older, he was full of mis- 


20 


Children of Our Wilds 



©L. W. Brownell 

Two little spike horns began to grow between his ears 

chief. Finally Ray had to make him sleep 
in the barn at night. But Star loved Blue 
Boy and for two years they slept side by 
side just like two brothers. Often he 
would wrestle with the barn door for hours 
trying to get in. 

When he was about a year old, two lit¬ 
tle spike horns began to grow between his 
ears just above his eyes. These horns were 




Shooting Star 


21 


a great delight to him and also a great 
help in opening the barn door. They made 
him look so funny and wise, with the lit¬ 
tle round knobs on them. 

Shooting Star was growing up now. He 
like to wander off by himself and some¬ 
times he was gone for hours. Often he 
would make friends with the wild deer 
that happened to come down to drink from 
the stream behind the cabin. 

Ray could tell that he was getting rest¬ 
less. He knew that it wouldn’t be long 
before Star would be leaving him to join 
his wild brothers. And so, on his second 
birthday, he bought the deer a collar. It 
was a wide strap with a silver buckle, on 
which was engraved “Shooting Star.” 

The deer was very proud of his new neck¬ 
lace and would toss his head and look at 
Ray as if to ask what it was all about. 
And Ray tried to make him understand 
that it was to protect him from the guns 


22 


Children of Our Wilds 

of hunters, if he should ever wander out¬ 
side the protection of the Yosemite Valley. 
But the deer would kick up his heels and 
bound away into the woods with never a 
worry about men and guns. And no won¬ 
der, for the only man he had ever known 
had been his first friend, so he had no 
fear of men. 

One golden evening in October, the wild 
deer came to drink at the stream back of 
the Ranger’s cabin. With them was a 
graceful young doe, more beautiful than 
the rest. Star saw her and a glad light 
came into his eyes. He watched her for 
a long time. Then with a leap and a 
bound he was at her side. Away they 
went and they did not return until the 
stars came out. When she left him. Star 
stood with his foot uplifted, gazing into 
the twilight after her. At sunset the next 
night he was waiting for her at the 
stream. And pretty soon she came. 



Photo by the Author 

A graceful young doe, more beautiful than the rest 



24 


Children of Our Wilds 



Photo by the Author 

Usually two baby fawns are born 


Ray watched them from his cabin door. 
For a moment they looked at each other 
across the stream. Then Star waded in 
and swam over to her. Joyously they 
bounded away up the hillside. When Star 
heard Ray’s long whistle, he turned and 
listened, then came back to the water’s 
edge. That whistle had always brought 
him to the Ranger’s side. For a while 
he looked at Ray. Presently on the still 






Photo by the Author 


Star turned and listened 






26 


Children of Our Wilds 

evening air came a call as of the bleating 
of a sheep. The wild doe was calling Star 
and his wild heart answered her. With 
a graceful bound he was olf to join his 
beautiful mate of the woods. 

For three years, Ray did not see him. 
Then one day— 

But before you hear how they met 
again, let me tell you a few things about 
the ways of these timid wild creatures. 

Baby fawns are born in the summer, in 
June or July. Usually there are two of 
them, though sometimes there is only one. 
As a rule the mother keeps her babies 
hidden the first few months until they are 
pretty well able to take care of them¬ 
selves. 

At first they are a lovely reddish brown 
and are covered with white spots. In a 
few months the spots disappear and the 
silky coat changes to a grayish tan. 

When they are about four months old 


Shooting Star 


27 


they begin to eat the wild berries, tender 
grasses and young buds and branches of 
the trees. Usually the young deer run 
with their mother until they are nearly a 
year old. 

The young fawns leave no odor in their 
tracks, so dogs and coyotes cannot trail 
them. Nature protects these wild babies 
in this way. 

Deer have three different gaits, all of 
them stiff-legged. It is a lovely sight to 
see them walking through the woods, set¬ 
ting each foot down vertically. In the 
trot they sway from side to side. But it 
is the gallop they use as they bound away 
from the enemy. 

If danger is near and several deer are 
together, they will usually separate and 
come together again when they think the 
danger is past. 

Often, as they bound away through the 
brush, they will “flash” the tail as a signal 


28 


Children of Our Wilds 



© L. W. Brownell 

The under side of the mule-tail deer’s tail is white 


to other deer that danger is near. The 
under side of the tail is white, as you can 
see by this picture of the young doe, and, 
as the rest of the body is tan color, the 
white tail can easily be seen by the other 
deer and makes a very good danger flag. 

The ears of the deer are long and point¬ 
ed, something like a mule’s ears. That 
is how the mule-tail gets his name. He 
has a keen sense of hearing and pays 



Shooting Star 


29 


more attention to noise than to motion. 

If he sees an enemy he will often keep 
very still and not move till the danger is 
past. But if he hears a twig snap or any 
unusual noise, he is oif with a bound. 

He will often go back over his tracks 
to see if he is being followed. 

The hoofs of the deer are very sharp. 
He uses them to fight with if he is at¬ 
tacked by dogs or coyotes, for they can 
cut like a knife. 

The snow is one of the enemies of the 
deer in the winter, for he cannot walk on 
the crust of the snow, as other animals 
can, because his sharp hoofs cut through 
the crust. So in the winter the mule-tail 
deer stays down in the valley where the 
snow is not so deep. 

He uses his hoofs to kill snakes with, 
too. He will circle around and around the 
snake until he sees his chance. Then he 
will strike very quickly and surely. 


30 


Children of Our Wilds 



Courtesy of the U. S. Bureau of Biological Survey 

The most interesting thing about the deer is his horns 


The most interesting thing about the 
deer is his horns, or antlers. It is only 
the male deer that has horns. 

In the spring when he is about a year 
old, two little spike horns begin to grow 
just above his eyes. These little spikes 
have knobs on them. 

While the horns are growing they are 
covered with a thick skin called velvet. 




Shooting Star 


31 


This skin contains blood vessels which 
carry the blood to the horns and furnishes 
them with the materials which make 
them grow. These horns are not hollow 
like those of cattle but are of solid bone. 

While the antlers are growing, they are 
very tender and easily hurt. The deer is 
careful of them at this time and stays 
mostly in the open so as not to rub them 
against the branches of the trees. 

By August the antler is full-grown and 
is now sharp-pointed. Then the velvet 
dries up and drops off. Sometimes the 
deer gets rid of it by rubbing his antlers 
against the trees. 

He keeps these horns through the mat¬ 
ing season, which is the fall. At this time 
he is very fierce and uses his antlers to 
fight other bucks with, if they come near 
his mate. Often the bucks get their horns 
locked when they fight. Then they die of 
starvation and thirst. 


32 


Children of Our Wilds 


After the mating season is over, in the 
late fall, the antlers are shed and through 
the winter the deer has no horns. In the 
spring they begin to grow again and their 
growth is very rapid. 

Each year another branch, or tine, is 
added. You can tell the age of a deer by 
the number of tines on his horns. 

By the end of the summer, the antlers 
have reached their growth. The deer is 
very proud of these long, branched horns 
and likes to display them to other bucks. 
As I have told you, he likes to fight with 
them, too. He will pin a dog to the ground 
with these strong horns, if the dog corners 
him. 

And now you shall hear about the happy 
day when Ray and Star found each other 
again. 

For a long time after Star left him, Ray 
watched each morning and evening, hop¬ 
ing that he would come back. And always 


Shooting Star 


33 


as he rode through the woods and over 
the trails, the Ranger looked for a deer 
with a collar which had a silver buckle on 
it. He never gave up hope that some day 
he would find his beloved Star. 

One day in the Fall, three years later, 
he was riding through a timbered spot, 
when suddenly he realized that a buck was 
following him. Ray stopped, but he could 
not get a clear view of him. By and 
by the deer began circling around him. 
Nearer and nearer he came. Suddenly 
with a snort he leaped over a fallen log 
and stood facing his old friend, the Range 
Rider. For a second he sniffed the air, 
then came trotting up to Ray. What a 
meeting that was! Ray had a hard time 
to keep Star from pawing him and climb¬ 
ing on him, in his excitement and joy at 
seeing him. 

But he managed to keep the deer at a 
safe distance until he was used to his 


34 


Children of Our Wilds 

man friend again. Then, little by little, 
he came closer to Star and talked to him 
and patted the shining tan coat. 

They stayed there together until the 
sun went down. When Ray left him. Star 
followed him to the edge of the clearing. 
As he disappeared around the bend, Ray 
turned to take a last look at his old pal. 
Star was standing there, foot uplifted as 
of old, straining his neck and gazing after 
the Ranger. 

Only once since has Ray ever seen 
Shooting Star. It was one morning when 
he and Blue Boy were watching the sun 
rise at Mirror Lake. 

Suddenly a shadow appeared on the sur¬ 
face of the beautiful water mirror that 
lies below Half Dome. It was the shadow 
of a deer and Ray could see that he wore 
a collar with a silver buckle on it. 

The Ranger’s gray eyes shone as he told 
me about his last glimpse of Star. 


Shooting Star 


35 


“The wind carried my scent across the 
Lake,” he explained, “and Star knows that 
scent from every other scent in the world. 

“There he stood, his antlers lifted high, 
his keen nose sniffing the air. Blue Boy 
knew him, too, and gave a long whinny. 
I whistled and Star answered us. Across 
the Lake came that strange call that comes 
only from the heart of a wild deer. 

“For awhile he stood watching us, then 
away he went, into the wooded hills, back 
to the free, wild life he loved.” 

And the Ranger smiled his big, crooked 
smile. 



© L. IV. Brownell' 

Split-Ear is coal black all over except for a white spot on 
the tip-end of her nose 

SPLIT-EAR 

TIT OW would you like to land on top of 
a big- black bear? I think you’d be 
scared! Well, so was Gappy Belden. 

This is a really true bear story—every 
bit of it. 

Away out west in California is Sequoia 
National Park. Great trees grow there. 
They are called “Giant Redwoods.” Some 




Split-Ear 


37 


of them are thousands of years old and 
so tall you can’t see the tops unless you lie 
down on your back and look up and up. 

Their great, strong roots grow deep 
down into the earth and their green limbs 
stretch wide to the sunshine, the wind and 
the rain. Their trunks are straight and 
strong and beautiful. 

Well, Gappy was bear hunting that sum¬ 
mer in the Giant Forest. He wasn’t hunt¬ 
ing them to kill—Gappy didn’t go hunting 
that way. He wanted to make movies of 
the bears to bring back and show the chil¬ 
dren, so they could see how bears live in 
the wet, wild woods. Gappy loves animals 
and he is not afraid of them, for he has 
studied their ways and knows how to make 
friends with them. 

Most hunters take guns when they go 
bear hunting, but Gappy took honey. 
Doesn’t that make you smile? He started 
out early that morning with his honey and 


38 Children of Our Wilds 

his movie camera. He walked and walked 
through ferns and underbrush, wading 
streams and climbing over great rocks 
and logs until he got away into the deep, 
dark forest. 

Then he sat down under one of those 
big trees to rest; and before long the birds 
and squirrels and rabbits came out and 
began making friends with him. 

At first they peeked shyly at him out 
of their scared little eyes. Then they be¬ 
gan talking to him in animal language, 
coming nearer, as he answered them with 
chirps and squeaks and funny noises—all 
the time taking their pictures. 

Pretty soon the birds were eating out 
of his hand, and the squirrels were run¬ 
ning all over him, whisking their tails in 
his face and poking their sharp noses into 
his pockets for nuts. And the timid rab¬ 
bits scampered about, shaking their little 
white powder puffs at him. 


39 


Split-Ear 

After he had played with the birds and 
squirrels and rabbits for a while, Gappy 
picked up his honey jar and his movie 
camera and went on to hunt bear. 

By and by he came to a big log in his 
path. Little did he dream that an old 
black bear was asleep on the other side 
of that log, half buried under a pile of 
leaves. 

Gappy climbed carefully up with his 
camera and his honey and looked around 
for a soft place to jump. 

Then he saw the pile of leaves and— 
plump! he landed right on top of old Split- 
Ear’s back! 

It would be hard to tell which was the 
most scared. Gappy or Split-Ear. Up into 
the air shot that old bear and up bounced 
Gappy, like a big rubber ball. When Gap¬ 
py came down, he started to run; and so 
did Split-Ear ! You would have laughed to 
see them running away from each other. 


40 


Children of Our Wilds 

After a while Gappy got over his scare 
and came back. He made up his mind he 
must have that old bear’s picture. 

He knew she’d be back if she smelled 
the honey and the meat sandwiches in his 
lunch kit. So he took the lid off the jar, 
put the honey and the sandwiches beside 
the log and went off a little way and hid 
behind a tree. 

Well, as you know, bears love honey 
better than anything else in the world. 
After Gappy had waited a little while, he 
heard a rustling in the leaves. He peeked 
out from behind the tree with just one eye 
and there he saw Split-Ear coming, snif¬ 
fing the air and looking all around care¬ 
fully. Right up to the log she came and 
ate the sandwiches in about two shakes 
of her funny old tail. Then she found the 
honey and yum! yum! how she went for 
it. She put her paws into the jar and 
licked off the honey with her rough, red 


Split-Ear 


41 



Photo by the Author 

She looked around and called again, “Umph! umph!” 


tongue. When there wasn't a drop left, 
she spread her toes apart and licked them 
clean. Then she looked all around and 
grunted, “Umph! umph!’’ Maybe she 
was saying “Thank you.” 

Anyhow she looked all around and 
sniffed the air and called again, “Umph! 
umph!” And Gappy answered her this 
time. “Umph! umph!” he grunted and 
came out from behind the tree and took 
her picture beside the log. 




42 Children of Our Wilds 

Split-Ear is coal black all over except for 
a white spot on the tip end of her nose. 
If you look carefully, you will see it in the 
picture. It looks as if a snowflake had 
fallen there and forgotten to melt. 

That was the beginning of the friend¬ 
ship between Gappy and old Split-Ear. 

The next day Gappy came again with 
another jar of honey, and the next day, 
and the next. And every day for the rest 
of that summer Gappy and Split-Ear met 
at the old log. 

At last summer was over and Gappy 
had to go home. Split-Ear didn’t know 
why he brought her such an extra big jar 
of honey that last day, but she knew that 
he loved her. I am sure she did, for when 
he patted her shaggy coat, she looked at 
him with her soft black eyes and licked 
his face and laid her cold nose against his 
hand. 

A year later Gappy went back to 


Split-Ear 


43 


Sequoia Park and some other movie men 
went with him. They wanted to take Split- 
Ear’s picture, too. It was hard for them 
to believe that a man and a wild bear 
could really be friends. 

“Split-Ear will know me by my white 
hair,” said Gappy. So he took off his hat 
and went to the old log. There he found 
tracks he thought were hers. He waited a 
long time but she didn’t come. Then he 
went deeper into the woods toward Split- 
Ear’s den. 

“Umph! umph!” he called and listened. 
“Umph! umph!” he called again. 

Pretty soon, “Umph! umph!” he heard 
her answer, and in a minute she came 
trotting through the bushes. She jumped 
upon him like a big dog and nearly 
smothered him with her bear hugs and 
kisses. Just think! she knew him and she 
hadn’t seen him for a whole year. 

Then the strangest thing happened. 


44 


Children of Our Wilds 

Suddenly she turned and trotted off into 
the trees. Could it be she was offended? 
Gappy couldn’t understand. 

Well, pretty soon, with much rustling 
of leaves, here she came back with 
two darling, roly-poly cubs trotting be¬ 
side her. Would you believe it? She had 
gone back and got her babies to show to 
Gappy! Doesn’t she look proud of those 
furry little fellows? Look how nicely she 
posed them for the picture. 

Well, you never saw anything so full of 
pep as those two baby bears. They came 
right up to Gappy and began playing with 
him like fat little puppies. One of them 
got hold of his necktie and didn’t they 
have fun! They both pulled till they got 
it off and then they had a tug of war. 
One little bear fell over backward when 
his brother let go suddenly. 

Well, Gappy had promised the movie 
men to bring old Split-Ear out. So he. got 


Split-Ear 


45 



Photo by the Author 

She came back with two darling, roly-poly cubs 


the honey jar and gave her and the cubs 
a taste. Then he coaxed them along until 
he got them out where the men were 
waiting. He warned them to keep a safe 
distance, for you know it is dangerous to 
come near a wild animal unless it knows 
you are its friend. When they had taken 
the picture of the cubs playing with Gap¬ 
py, one movie man said, “I am going to 
have my picture taken with the cubs, 
too.” 






46 


Children of Our Wilds 


“Better be careful,” warned Gappy. 
“Split-Ear doesn’t know you.” 

“I’m not afraid,” said the movie man. 

He took the honey and started toward 
Split-Ear, but he soon stopped, for sud¬ 
denly a look of rage came into her eyes. 
She rose up on her hind legs, lifted her 
great paw and charged at him. 

“Run! run!” shouted Gappy. “Hurry!” 

And you would better believe he did 
run. Split-Ear would have clawed him to 
death if she could have caught him. When 
wild animals have young ones, they are 
very fierce and you cannot go near them 
unless they know you. Always remember 
that. 

You may be sure that that movie man 
learned his lesson. He said he didn’t like 
bears, anyway. 

And now you must hear about once 
when Gubby Bear got a spanking for not 
minding his mother. Perhaps it will make 


Split-Ear 


47 



© Underwood and Underwood 

Split-Ear was teaching them to climb trees 

you laugh, but Cubby Bear didn’t laugh. 

He sniffled and whined and cried for 
hours. But he had to learn that little 
bears, like little boys and girls, must mind 
their mothers. 

This is the way it happened. Gappy was 




48 


Children of Our Wilds 


late that day and the bears were there 
ahead of him. He saw Split-Ear a little 
way off. One cub was up in a tree and 
Split-Ear was trying to make his little 
brother go up, too. I suppose she was 
teaching them to climb trees. Anyway, 
Cubby Bear wouldn’t go up that tree. His 
mother talked to him, but he paid no at¬ 
tention. She went over and tried to push 
him up, but he wouldn’t go. 

Finally, she took that naughty little 
bear in her strong, hairy arms, and my! 
how she spanked him! He howled and 
whined and begged, but she just kept on 
spanking, and when she let him go, you 
may believe he scaled up that tree in 
about one shake of his sore little tail. He 
didn’t come down till his mother told him 
he could, either; and he didn’t get any 
honey that day, for Split-Ear and the other 
little fellow ate it all up. 

Cubby Bear sat up in the tree and 


Split-Ear 


49 


whined and cried the rest of the after¬ 
noon. Well, after a while Split-Ear let him 
come down, and when Gappy left them 
that day, the bears followed him clear to 
the edge of the woods. Fm glad that Split- 
Ear didn’t know it was the last time she 
would ever see Gappy. 

Now comes the end of the story and it 
is sad, but, you know, the end is often sad 
for wild animals. And so, since I promised 
to tell you a true story I must let you know 
what became of old Split-Ear. 

A few weeks after Gappy went home, 
some men came and built a big hotel in 
Sequoia Park. 

One night Split-Ear decided to find out 
about the big dark house that had sud¬ 
denly grown up in her wild woods. 

I suppose she had a curiosity about the 
strange man creatures, too, who whistled 
and hammered and filled the quiet forest 
with noise the whole day long. Maybe 


50 


Children of Our Wilds 



© Ewing Galloway 

This night Split-Ear went over to the new hotel 


she thought she would find Gappy Belden 
among the man creatures. 

Anyhow this night she went over to the 
new hotel to investigate. You know bears 
like to prowl at night. 

The hotel was not quite finished and the 
workmen were sleeping on the fioor. It 
was a warm night and they had left the 



Split-Ear 


51 


door open a little way. So, when Split- 
Ear came along, she just pushed it open 
and went in. She sniffed the men and 
walked right over some of them before 
they knew she was there. 

Then, all at once, one man opened his 
eyes. When he saw that big, black bear 
standing there beside him, he gave a yell 
that wakened the other men, and, of 
course, there was a scramble. They took 
to their heels and ran, all but one man. 
He reached for the gun hanging on the 
wall. 

Poor Split-Ear! If only Gappy had been 
there to tell him she didn’t mean any 
harm. For a moment she stood there as 
if she wondered what it was all about. 
Then she turned her head toward the man 
with the gun. Bang! The bullet hit her 
between the eyes. She raised up on her 
hind legs and howled with pain. Bang! 
again, and this time the bullet went 


52 


Children of Our Wilds 


straight into her great bear heart. With 
a moan she dropped to the floor and lay 
still. The man made a light and lifted the 
lids of her soft black eyes. Split-Ear was 
dead. 

Sometime I hope you may visit the 
Giant Forest. In the hotel, in front of the 
fireplace, you will see a big bear rug, and 
you will know that it once was Split-Ear’s 
coat, for the right ear is split all the way 
down. 

It is possible, too, that in your wander¬ 
ings through the forest in the neighbor¬ 
hood where Split-Ear had her home, you 
may meet two full-grown bears, once Split- 
Ear’s dear little cubs. 



(£) L. IV. Brownell 

Polar bears are splendid creatures 


SNOW QUEEN 

'^HIS is a story of the polar bear Snow 
Queen and her children, Jack Frost 
and Pink Tongue. It was told to me by 
a man who went to the Northland on an 
“ice-breaker.” An ice-breaker is a ship 
which brings brave men to explore the 
land where the polar bear lives. 

It is true that the land of snow and 


53 









54 


Children of Our Wilds 

ice is wonderful and thrilling, but it is 
dangerous and cruel, too. The men who 
go there must have brave hearts and 
strong bodies. Sometimes it is called the 
“Land of the Midnight Sun.” That is 
because in the summer time the sun shines 
even at midnight. 

Summer time is the happy time in the 
Northland. For a little while it grows 
warmer. The frozen ice fields break up 
into huge, swiftly moving blocks of ice. 
Great icebergs break off the ice moun¬ 
tains, which are called glaciers, and 
float for hundreds of miles in the blue 
Arctic sea. 

The snow melts from the banks. The 
foxes and bears come out of their holes 
and eat the grass and tender roots and 
berries that grow and ripen as soon as the 
snow is gone. But the summer lasts only a 
few short weeks. Then comes winter, 
which lasts many long dark months. 


Snow Queen 


55 


The days grow shorter and shorter, the 
nights longer and longer, until at last the 
sun doesn’t seem to rise there at all. For 
weeks and weeks it is one long night, with 
just a hint of daylight in the middle of 
the day. 

At last comes spring again. The great 
yellow sun rolls up over the rim of the 
Arctic, and pushes his fingers further and 
further up into the Northern sky, bring¬ 
ing back the happy summer again to,.the 
Land of the Midnight Sun. 

Before I tell you about Snow Queen and 
Pink Tongue and Jack Frost, I must tell 
you what splendid creatures polar bears 
are. And you will want to know some¬ 
thing of their ways and find out some of 
their secrets, too. 

The polar bear is King of the North¬ 
land, you know. 

When he stands on his hind feet, he 


56 


Children of Our Wilds 



Courtesy of the U. S. Bureau of Biological Survey 

The polar beards long neck helps him in swimming 

looks like a great snow giant. Often he 
measures seven or eight feet from the end 
of his nose to the tip of his tail. And some¬ 
times he weighs more than a thousand 
pounds! Just think how many boys and 
girls it would take to weigh a thousand 
pounds! 

His thick fur coat protects him from 
the cold and is white all over. 






Snow Queen 


57 


The only spot on the polar bear that is 
not white is his nose. That is as black as 
though he had dipped it into an inkwell. 

His broad feet are padded with long, 
thick hair, almost as thick as fur, which 
grows between his toes and on the soles 
of his feet. This makes it easy for him 
to walk on the ice without slipping. 

His great feet are excellent paddles, 
too. You know the polar bear is the best 
swimmer of all the land animals. Though 
he is so heavy, he is wonderfully lithe in 
the water. 

His long neck helps him in swimming, 
too. He can dive almost as well as a seal. 

On the ends of his paws are long, sharp 
claws which he uses to catch seal and wal¬ 
rus and fish. Other bears hug their prey 
to death, but the polar bear kills his food 
with his sharp teeth and claws. 

And do you know that he will not eat 
anything he catches until it is quite dead? 


58 


Children of Our Wilds 

No matter how hungry he is, he waits un¬ 
til it stops wriggling. In this he is differ¬ 
ent from some other animals. 

And now I shall tell you the secret of 
how he catches seal. He likes seal meat 
better than anything else. 

The seal likes to come up on the ice to 
sleep and to breathe the fresh, cold air. 

He knows that the polar bear is his 
enemy. So, before he takes a nap, he looks 
all around to see if there are any bears in 
sight. If everything is all right, he goes 
to sleep. He sleeps for about a minute. 
Then he wakes up, stretches his neck and 
looks all around and goes to sleep for an¬ 
other minute. And so he always sleeps 
for one minute and stays awake for two. 

Mr. Bear is clever, too. He knows the 
ways of seals. When he spots Mr. Seal, 
he lays himself down close to the ice and 
covers his black nose with his paw. He 
knows that the seal cannot see him now. 


Snow Queen 59 

all that can be seen is white, just like the 
snow. 

While the seal is taking his one-minute 
nap, the bear trails along rapidly on his 
stomach toward him. As soon as the black 
head of the seal comes up, down goes the 
bear close to the ice. Quickly he covers 
his black nose with his big white paw and 
lies quite still. As soon as the black head 
of the seal goes down, you should see Mr. 
Bear zigzag his way over the ice. 

Finally he gets near enough to pounce 
upon the poor seal and to bury his sharp 
claws in the soft flesh of the seal. So you 
see the bear outwits the seal. 

He has another way of catching seals 
when they are in the water. 

In winter they come up to breathe in 
the holes they have made when the ice 
was thin. 

• The bear flnds the breathing-hole and 
lies quite still beside it. When the dark 


60 


Children of Our Wilds 

shadow moves under the ice he crouches, 
ready to spring. The instant the black 
head fills the round opening, down comes 
the big paw and the poor seal is caught. 

The polar bear is very intelligent. 
Sometimes he kills the walrus by drop¬ 
ping down great boulders or ice blocks 
upon him from above. 

Just one thing more about the ways of 
the polar bear. Then comes the story. 

When the short summer is over and au¬ 
tumn comes, Mrs. Bear gets sleepy. Then 
she and Mr. Bear leave the shore and to¬ 
gether they go inland. He helps her to 
dig a deep hole in the snow. She lies down 
in this hole and Mr. Bear leaves her and 
goes back to the shore alone. 

Then the snow falls from the dark sky 
and soon it covers Mrs. Bear like a soft 
white blanket. 

All the long winter she sleeps there. 


Snow Queen 61 

When Spring comes two tiny white cubs 
are beside her. 

As soon as the snow melts the cubs get 
lively and will not let her sleep any longer. 
So she pushes her way out to the open, 
very thin and very hungry. 

She has had nothing to eat all winter, 
you know. She has lived on the fat which 
was stored up in her great body. 

And now comes the story of Snow Queen 
and her two cubs. Jack Frost and Pink 
Tongue. 

It was Spring in the Land of the Mid¬ 
night Sun. The ice was breaking. The 
snow was melting. The seabirds were 
hatching their young. The happy time 
had come again to the Northland. 

Far back from the shore, deep under 
a blanket of snow, lay Snow Queen and 
her two tiny cubs. Jack Frost and Pink 
Tongue. 


62 


Children of Our Wilds 


Warm and snug the little white fluff 
balls lay against the great, soft body of 
their mother. 

One day Jack Frost woke up. He 
yawned and stretched himself. Then he 
rolled right over on top of Pink Tongue. 

She began to whine and tried to push 
him away with her little soft paws. Jack 
Frost listened. He had never heard that 
sound before. Indeed it was the very first 
sound he had ever heard. 

Presently something inside of him made 
him want to make that funny little noise 
too. So he tried it and found it was just 
as easy as anything. 

So they both whined together. But 
Snow Queen slept on. By and by they 
opened their soft black eyes, looked at 
each other and rubbed noses. 

Then they buried their little heads 
against Snow Queen’s creamy fur and 
went after their dinner, just as puppies do. 


Snow Queen 


63 


Pretty soon when they had finished their 
meal, they began to get lively. They rolled 
each other over and over. They climbed 
up on Snow Queen’s back and pulled at 
her with their baby paws. They licked 
her with their pink velvet tongues. Still 
Snow Queen slept on. 

At last they put their little black noses 
close to her ear and whined and whined 
and whined. My! what a noise they made! 

Snow Queen began to wake up. Slowly 
she opened her sleepy eyes. Then she 
raised her great head and looked at her 
new babies. And wasn’t she proud of 
them! 

She put her paws around them and held 
them close to her great bear heart—just 
as your mother sometimes holds you. 

Then she began to dig her way out. Of 
course the fat little fluff balls followed 
her. The first lesson a little bear learns is 
to follow his mother. 


64 


Children of Our Wilds 

At last they came out into the white 
world. They looked all around and 
blinked their eyes at the bright sun. 

Poor Snow Queen! She was so thin and 
so hungry. You know she had had noth¬ 
ing to eat all winter. 

The babies wanted to play, but she hur¬ 
ried them over to the nearest bank, where 
the snow had melted, and began eating 
the green grass and digging for the ten¬ 
der roots. 

A little further on she found some bird’s 
eggs and some baby birds. And she ate 
every one! 

For several days she and the cubs trav¬ 
eled along. What a lot of things those 
little bears learned on the way. And they 
had lots of fun, too. 

Once they came to a half-buried old 
shack. While their mother was nosing 
around trying to get inside, the cubs 
climbed up on the snow-covered roof and 


Snow Queen 


65 


slid down, just as you would have done. 

Sometimes the silly little foxes would 
come out of their holes and yelp at them. 
And the little bears would chase them. 

At night they slept in the snow, close to 
their mother’s warm body. 

And then, one day, they came to the 
shore. For the first time they saw the 
blue sea with its frozen, floating floor. 

Snow Queen took them right out on the 
ice and they watched her catch fish and 
seal and walrus. And she didn’t eat a bit 
until she fed them first. 

She taught them how to lay low and 
how to cover their noses with their paws; 
how to dive and how to climb out on the 
ice floes again. 

You know a baby polar bear can swim 
as soon as it is born. So Jack Frost and 
Pink Tongue were not afraid of the water. 
They went wherever Snow Queen went. 

They chased the little fishes. They ran 


66 


Children of Our Wilds 


races. And they played a funny little 
game. This is how they played it. 

They would lie on their backs in the 
water and catch hold of their hind toes 
with their front feet and roll over and 
over and over, like little barrels. 

I must also tell you about once when 
Snow Queen took them for a long, long 
swim. 

They were far from shore that day, 
many miles from shore. 

It happened that there were no ice floes 
for them to rest on. After a while the 
little bears got tired. And Snow Queen 
had to tow them home. 

First one little bear would catch hold 
of her tail and she would tow him for 
a while. Then the other one would have 
a turn. Poor Snow Queen was glad to 
get them back to shore that day. It was 
hard work pulling the cubs through the 
water. 



© Underwood and Underwood 

Snow Queen and little Jack Frost 






68 Children of Our Wilds 

And now comes the thrilling part of 
the story. 

One day a great ship came to the North¬ 
land. It was an ice-breaker which had 
brought some brave men from a far-away 
land to explore the Arctic wilds. 

Well, the ship got frozen fast in the 
ice and was locked there for weeks. One 
day one of the men went out on the ice 
to spear seal. He was dressed in fur froni 
head to foot. 

He sat down near a breathing-hole to 
wait for the seal. Pretty soon Snow Queen 
saw him. I suppose she thought he was 
an animal, for he was covered with fur. 

Anyway, Snow Queen and the cubs 
trailed themselves along on their stom¬ 
achs toward the man. He had his back 
to them and they made a zigzag trail so 
as not to startle him. 

Just as they were ready to pounce on 
him, a seal came by. Up jumped the man 


Snow Queen 69 

with his spear raised in the air. At that 
minute he saw the bears. 

Quick as a flash of light Snow Queen 
rose up on her hind feet and gathered 
the cubs to her breast. Her two great fore 
paws protecting them, she stood there and 
faced the danger bravely. 

With a mighty leap the man threw aside 
the spear and ran for his life back to the 
ship. 

A few days after the wind was blow¬ 
ing just right. Snow Queen and the cubs 
smelled walrus blubber, for the men on 
the ship had killed a walrus for their dogs. 

Bears are very curious. They must And 
• out about everything. And the smell of 
walrus blubber! They just had to follow 
that smell. 

The men on the ship spied them through 
their telescope. Several of them took 
their guns, climbed into a small boat and 
started after the bears. You know, on a 


70 


Children of Our Wilds 


trip to the North Land such as these men 
were making, food is scarce and must be 
carefully guarded. 

When polar bears are alarmed they 
take to the water. So, when Snow Queen 
and the cubs saw them coming, they dove 
into the sea and swam for their lives. 

From one ice floe to another they swam. 
The poor cubs got very tired. At last, 
when Snow Queen saw that they could 
swim no longer, she climbed out of the 
water. The little ones followed her and 
ran along on the ice as long as they could. 

Poor little Pink Tongue! Her little legs 
got so tired she couldn’t go any further. 
So she just sat right down on the ice. 
Then what do you think Snow Queen did? 
Why, she pushed her tired little baby with 
her great paws. She would give her a 
shove that would send the little one a 
long way. Jack Frost trotted bravely 
along beside his mother. 


Snow Queen 


71 


Closer and closer came Snow Queen’s 
enemies. At last they were near enough 
to shoot. Poor Snow Queen! She rose up 
on her hind legs, uttered a terrible growl 
and tried to cover her children with her 
strong arms. 

But it was too late. Down she came, 
with a pitiful moan. 

And what do you think she did then? 
She put her great arms around her chil¬ 
dren and licked their little black noses. 
Then with the last ounce of her strength 
she raised up and pushed them into the 
water out of harm’s reach. 


# 



Q> 

g 










0 










SCAMPER 

C CAMPER is a gray squirrel. He lives 
in the park. I go to see him often and 
I call him my pet, but really he belongs 
to everybody. 

I have a picture of him eating from the 
hand of one of his close friends, the very 
first time that I saw him. This elderly 
gentleman could often be seen feeding 
the squirrels and the birds in the park. 
They seemed to watch for his coming and 
the food which he always brought them. 

Scamper runs and plays over many 
acres, but his nest, or home, is in a big oak 
tree which grows beside a tiny lake where 
ducks, swans and goldfish swim. 

One day I went out to pay him a visit. 
I had not seen him for weeks and I was 
afraid he had forgotten me. 

My little friend, Paulina Shell, went 
with me. Paulina is just two years old. 

73 


74 


Children of Our Wilds 



© L. W. Brownell 

Scamper runs and plays over many acres 

We walked around the lake looking in 
all the trees for Scamper. There were big 
squirrels and little squirrels, old squirrels 
and young squirrels, fat squirrels and 
skinny ones, but we could not find Scamp¬ 
er anywhere. 

Paulina had a bag of peanuts and I 
had a sack of pine nuts. We sat down on 
the grass and tried to make friends with 
some of the young squirrels playing about. 

They whisked and leaped over the grass 




Scamper 


75 


and chased the little sparrows who were 
taking their morning dust baths. 

Paulina laughed and clapped her hands 
as one of the birds flew after a saucy 
young squirrel and chased him up a tree, 
where he hid among the leaves. 

One little fellow found a striped paper 
bag. He took it in his front paws, which 
were just like little hands. He tore it 
open and poked his nose inside, then in 
went his whole head. When he found it 
was empty, he took the bag in those little 
striped hands and rolled over in the dust 
with it, just like a boy with a football. 

By and by he came back. We tried to 
coax him over to us with the nuts which 
we held out to him. At last he came quite 
close and whisked his bushy tail and 
looked at us with his bright eyes, but he 
would not come within our reach. He took 
the peanut which Paulina threw him and, 
darting up the tree, sat up on his hind 


76 


Children of Our Wilds 

legs. With his sharp, scissorlike teeth, he 
bit off the shell and ate the peanut. 

Then back he came for more. This time 
he discovered that I had some pine nuts. 
Squirrels like pine nuts better than any¬ 
thing. Closer and closer he came to me. 
The bag was open on my lap but I did 
not offer him any of my pine nuts, for I 
was saving them for Scamper. 

Well, pretty soon he slipped around be¬ 
hind me and, like a flash, he ran up my 
back and down over my shoulder into my 
lap. And before I could say “Jack Robin¬ 
son,” he caught up my bag of pine nuts 
and bounded away with it. 

The little thief ran like the wind. We 
followed him and found a trail of pine 
nuts along his path. I am afraid the paper 
bag was about all he had left when he 
reached his nest in the tree. 

Well, we got another bag of nuts from 
the gate man. Then we went over and 


Scamper 


77 


sat in the shade of the big oak where 
Scamper lives. Paulina kept calling him 
in her soft baby voice. Presently she 
picked up a little stick and held it to her 
lips and sang a little tune. 

“If I play flute music, maybe Scamper 
will come,” she lisped. 

“Maybe he will, dear,” I laughed, “for 
animals love music, they say.” 

And, sure enough, in a moment he came. 
First I saw the shiny black eyes peeking 
at us from behind the tree. Paulina kept 
on playing her “flute music,” as she called 
it, for she had not yet discovered him. I 
reached quickly for my camera. I wanted 
a picture of Scamper and little Paulina, to 
send along with this story. 

Suddenly the little rogue frisked him¬ 
self up on the log and curled his silver- 
gray tail over his back. He looked so cun¬ 
ning as he sat up on his hind feet and 
held his front paws together, just as if 


78 


Children of Our Wilds 

he were clapping his little hands. Quick as 
a wink, I snapped the picture. 

I knew it was Scamper, for he is larger 
than any of the other squirrels of the 
park. He is old and battle-scarred, too. 

I think he must have been in many 
fights, for in several places the fur is gone 
and he has two deep scars. His soft coat 
is brownish gray and underneath he is 
creamy white. His dainty, striped paws 
are tipped with black, curved claws. 

I shook my bag of pine nuts and he came 
toward me with a flying leap. Up and 
down he. ran, all over me. After he had 
eaten all the nuts he could hold, he began 
to store them away in his pockets. You 
know a squirrel’s pockets are in his 
cheeks. When his pockets were filled, he 
would scamper away and bury the nuts 
under the leaves. Then back he would 
come for more. 

Once I hid the bag in my coat pocket. 



Photo by the Author 

Suddenly the little rogue frisked himself up on a log 








80 


Children of Our Wilds 



Courtesy of the U. S. Bureau of Biological Survey 

Who should come creeping slyly toward us but the young rascal 

When he came back, he whisked all over 
me looking for it. Finally he found it. 
Right into my pocket he dove and opened 
the bag and helped himself. 

And then what do you think happened? 
Who should come creeping slyly toward 
us but the young rascal who had stolen 
my bag of pine nuts a little while before! 




Scamper 81 

I knew him in a minute and I waited to 
see what would happen. 

Scamper must have seen him. But he 
went on eating and did not seem to notice 
him. The saucy fellow came closer. Fi¬ 
nally he ran up and perched himself on 
my shoulder. I saw Scamper bristle, but 
I was not prepared for what was about to 
happen. 

Slyly the other squirrel crept down into 
my lap, watching old Scamper every sec¬ 
ond. Suddenly, without warning. Scamper 
pounced upon him. 

Such a fight as they had, right there on 
my lap! I did not like it at all. I tried 
to shake them off, but I could not. They 
fought so fiercely and so fast that all I 
could see was a ball of fur and two gray 
tails flying up in my face. 

I am glad to say the fight did not last 
long, for the young one was no match 
for old Scamper. He fought bravely, but 


82 


Children of Our Wilds 

he soon got the worst of it. All at once, 
with a squeal and a bound, he threw him¬ 
self free of the old warrior and shot away. 

Scamper went on filling his pockets as 
if nothing had happened. Then away he 
would scurry and bury the nuts under 
the leaves. I wonder if he remembered 
where his pantry was, when he got hun¬ 
gry again? 

Paulina and I left the little busybody 
there, hiding his pine nuts. When we said 
good-by to him, he whisked his silver tail 
and blinked his bright eyes at us as if to 
say, “Come again.” 



Courtesy of the U. S. Bureau of Biological Survey 

Satin Coat would take a few nibbles of tender bark from 
the new young trees 

SATIN COAT 

AWAY up north, in the wilds of Canada, 
lived Satin Coat and his beaver fam¬ 
ily. Their lodge stood in the middle of 
a quiet pond which they themselves had 
made by damming up the stream. 

Satin Coat loved his mother and father 
dearly. And his brothers and sisters too. 
The first year there had been just the 
six of them, the parents and four young- 

83 




84 


Children of Our Wilds 


sters. Then came April, and three chil¬ 
dren had been added to the family. And 
now, along came four more whining little 
beaver kittens. 

The lodge had been so crowded since 
the new ones had come, that Father Bea¬ 
ver and the older children had had to 
sleep in the bank burrows near by. 

Of course they didn’t mind that so 
much. It was rather pleasant after the 
long winter months when they had been 
sealed up in the dark mud-house. It was 
like camping out in vacation. 

But it was summer now and Satin Coat 
was getting restless. Something inside 
was calling him. Or maybe it was some¬ 
thing out there along the banks of the 
winding stream that ran away and away 
as far as his small black eyes could see. 

He began to take short trips away from 
the quiet home pond and every day he 
went further and further up the stream. 


Satin Coat 


85 


But each night found him with his family 
again, for a beaver’s family is precious 
to him and his home is the dearest spot 
on earth. 

Satin Coat’s mother was busy with the 
younger children now, and anyway, his 
father had made him understand that 
there would be too many mouths to feed 
next winter. Everything depends on the 
food supply in a beaver colony. 

So one summer morning Satin Coat 
got up very early, just as the first gray 
light filtered through the trees. He took 
a long swim around and around the home 
where he had lived for the two happy 
years of his life. 

Then he pointed his nose toward the 
breeze to see if there was any man taint 
in the air. You know that beavers are 
born with the fear of man in their hearts. 
Satin Coat lifted his small round ears and 
listened a moment. Those little ears of 


86 


Children of Our Wilds 

his know the meaning of every sound. 
But not even the birds were up yet and 
not another animal had opened its sleepy 
eyes. 

So he swam to shore and shook the 
water drops from his thick brown fur and 
combed it out with that funny, split, sec¬ 
ond toe of his, that must have been put 
on his hind foot for just that purpose. 

After a few nibbles of tender bark from 
the new young trees, he started on his 
way. I wonder if he knew he would never 
come back, or if he just followed that 
inner call with which wild things seem to 
be born? 

Anyway he went farther that day than 
he had ever gone before. That night he 
did not come home, but slept in a burrow 
in the bank of the stream he had followed 
all day. 

In the morning he breakfasted on ten¬ 
der birch bark and delicious water plants. 


Satin Coat 


87 


Then he explored the nearby woods, keep¬ 
ing always close to the friendly stream. 
Beavers cannot travel very fast on land, 
so they stay near the water. They dive 
with a loud slap of their broad, flat tails, 
and in an instant they are hidden. Some 
people say they slap the water as a signal 
to warn other beavers of danger. 

By and by, as Satin Coat went nosing 
along through the brush and trees, he 
came to a stump that had beaver scent 
on it. 

Beavers have two scent pouches under 
their flat, scaly tails. As they go through 
the woods, they take the scent, mix it with 
mud and put little pats of it on the stumps 
and trees, as a signal to other beavers. 
Perhaps it is to mark the way. Or it may 
be a love token. 

Anyhow, when Satin Coat found that 
scent, he hurried on. All day he followed 
it from tree to stump, from stump to 


88 


Children of Our Wilds 


tree. Just as the sun went down he came 
to a pond where another colony of bea¬ 
vers lived. 

And there, swimming silently along the 
shore, was a beautiful young beaver who 
seemed to be waiting for him. She and 
Satin Coat rubbed noses and talked in 
beaver language. Then they swam away 
together in the summer twilight. 

The spot they selected for their home 
was the same pond in which Satin Coat 
found his lovely mate. Shall we call her 
Silky? 

Next day, when they came swimming 
in together, her family looked him over, 
rubbed noses and seemed to be pleased 
with the new brother. 

How busy the young beavers were those 
first happy weeks! They began at once to 
build their lodge, for it was the end of 
August now. Soon they would begin cut¬ 
ting and storing the winter food supply. 


Satin Coat 


89 


and always there was work to be done on 
the dam. It was every beaver’s job to keep 
the dams repaired and, day by day, to keep 
adding" to them, making them stronger 
and higher. If a beaver finds a hole in 
the dam, he dives down to the bottom of 
the pond and brings up some mud and sod 
and, with his front paws, he puts it into 
the break and plasters up the hole. Some 
people think the beaver plasters the mud 
on with his tail, but men who have 
watched beavers work, say they do it with 
their front feet, or paws, which are just 
like little hands. 

The dams are made of brush and 
branches of trees laid lengthwise, butts 
up-stream, with the current. To this they 
add sod, roots, stones and grass. This 
makes the foundation firm. They keep 
adding to this until the dam extends 
across the stream. In winter the mud 
freezes and makes it water-tight, just like 



4 


A beaver pond and colony 































































Satin Coat 


91 


cement. As long as a beaver colony lives 
in a pond, its members are working to in¬ 
crease the strength of the dams. The 
water between the two dams forms the 
pond. 

They often have extra dams besides the 
two main ones which form the pond. This 
is in case of floods or unexpected trouble. 

Some people wonder why they have the 
pond around their homes and why they 
need the dams. There are several good 
reasons. They must have the pond to hide 
the entrances to their houses. You see, 
the land animals are their enemies. So 
they must conceal the entrances to their 
homes under water. I will tell you about 
the lodges later. 

Another reason for the pond is to have 
a place to store the winter food supply. 
They use the bark of the birch, alder, ma¬ 
ple, spruce and willow for food. 

After the bark is eaten, the wood is 


92 Children of Our Wilds 

shredded and used in the lodge for bed¬ 
ding. 

They store great piles of these trees in 
the water near the lodge. First they fell 
the trees and strip them of their branch¬ 
es. Then they cut them into convenient 
lengths, usually about three feet. They 
float these to the chosen spot and anchor 
them under the water. In winter they 
swim out under the ice and cut oif the 
bark and take it into their houses and eat 
it. They can stay under water only about 
ten minutes. That is why they take the 
food into the lodge and eat it there. 

The pond is also a good place of retreat 
in case of attack. 

So you see that they must have the 
pond and it must be kept at an even level 
all the year round. Of course the dams 
make the pond. That is why the dams 
are their most important work. Don’t you 
think they are clever little engineers? 


Satin Coat 


93 


And now we must get back to Satin 
Coat and Silky and watch them build that 
wonderful lodge that is to be their home. 

The house is always placed either on the 
bank or on the island. Satin Coat and 
Silky liked the island best. Possibly they 
chose it because it was near the other 
island where Silky’s family lived. 

I must tell you that these two young 
beavers made their house themselves. Ev¬ 
ery beaver in the colony works on the 
dam, but they seem to understand that 
the home is a family affair. And they 
never make the mistake of getting into 
the wrong house, either. 

First they burrowed the two entrance 
tunnels about three or four inches under 
water. There are always two or more of 
these tunnels that lead into the floor of 
the house. That is so that in case any 
unexpected visitor gets in, they can make 
a quick retreat. Once in a while an otter 


94 


Children of Our Wilds 

does find his way into a beaver’s home and 
the beavers make their escape through 
the tunnels and swim away under the ice. 

These tunnels lead into the space to be 
used for the dining room and drying-off 
room. The floor is covered with grass and 
shredded wood. 

There is another room under the round¬ 
ed dome that is used as the sleeping-room. 
The floor of this room is raised several 
inches higher than that of the dining 
room. It is padded with thick layers of 
shredded wood, which makes it soft and 
dry. Some people say there are walls be¬ 
tween the two rooms, but that is not true. 
The floor of the sleeping room is simply 
built up a few inches higher. 

The beavers are very good housekeep¬ 
ers. Several times during the winter they 
carry out the old bedding and bring in 
new. They dry themselves off before 
going into the sleeping-room. 


Satin Coat 


95 


To make the dome, or covering', of the 
house. Satin Coat and Silky brought many 
loads of brush and twigs and branches. 
How cleverly the little creatures twined 
and interlaced them together! Then they 
filled in the small open spaces with moss 
and grass and sod. They did not forget to 
leave a little air hole for fresh air to 
come in near the top. 

By the time the house was built, the 
frost had covered the ground with the first 
thin white veils. It was October now and 
the busiest season of the year for the bea¬ 
vers. Soon the woods would be wrapped 
in a snow blanket and the streams would 
be covered with ice. 

Here, there and everywhere scurried 
the beavers. Satin Coat and Silky were 
busy putting on the coat of mud over 
their brush house. They knew that when 
the mud froze they would be as safe and 
warm as if they were in a cement house. 



© Publishers’ Photo Service 

Some of the beavers felled the trees 











Satin Coat 


97 


As soon as the house was done, the two 
young beavers helped to gather in the 
winter food supply. Some of the beavers 
felled the trees, others stripped off the 
branches and others cut them into con¬ 
venient lengths for carrying. Then they 
dragged or carried them to the water and 
floated them to the spot chosen as the 
storehouse. They knew just how to place 
the wood so as to be able to get it most 
conveniently when they wanted it later. 

And now the little fur-bearers were 
ready for winter. The dams were high 
and strong. The mud-plastered houses 
were supplied with thickly padded floors. 
There were great piles of alders, spruce, 
birch and willow, whose bark would feed 
them through the months that they would 
be prisoners of ice and snow. 

And just in time! One morning a week 
later Satin Coat and Silky awoke to And 
a frozen world! 


98 


Children of Our Wilds 


They took their swim under the ice that 
morning, and carried their breakfast of 
bark into their dining room and ate it. 
Then they crept back into their cozy cor¬ 
ner and went to sleep again. It was so 
good to rest after those weeks of hard 
work. 

And there we will leave them, happy 
and warm and safe. Safe from the howl¬ 
ing wolves and slinking foxes and hun¬ 
gry wolverine. Safe from the wicked steel 
trap, more cruel than their wild enemies. 
Safe to rest and dream of the happy 
spring when the new little Satin Coats 
will lie by Silky’s side and learn, from 
their proud parents, the wisdom of the 
beavers. 


STICKERS 


"CAR away on the Pacific Coast in the 
woods of Oregon lives Stickers, the 
porcupine. He is an ugly little fellow, 
about the size of a large Persian cat, but 
instead of fur, he is covered with long 
quills which grow, partly hidden, in the 
grayish brown hair of his body and tail. 

On the end of each of these tiny swords 
is a little barblike arrow head. This makes 
it very hard to get these painful little 
weapons out, once they get into the en¬ 
emy’s soft flesh. 

The strange thing about this odd wood¬ 
land creature is the way he can loosen 
these queer slim needles and use them to 
defend himself when he is attacked. 

Some folks think that he throws his 
quills or shoots them at his enemies, but 
those who have studied his ways say that 
is not true. 


99 


100 


Children of Our Wilds 


In case of attack he bristles himself out, 
the quills sticking out in every direction, 
from his body and tail. If the intruder 
touches the quills, even ever so lightly, the 
porcupine releases them instantly and 
they lodge themselves in the tormentor’s 
flesh. Fortunately for the porcupine, new 
quills grow where the old ones fall out, 
just like new hair grows. 

The porcupine has few foes among the 
wild folk. They seem to understand that 
it is best to give him plenty of room. I 
am sorry to say that men and dogs cause 
most of his trouble. 

The odd little creature doesn’t seem to 
have the intelligence of the average ani¬ 
mal. There is so little space for brain in 
his short, pointed head. But he knows that 
he has some wonderful little weapons of 
defense and he uses them expertly when 
he needs them. 

There are several kinds of porcupines 



© Publishers’ Photo Service 

The porcupine is covered with long quills 





102 


Children of Our Wilds 


in the different parts of our country, but 
they all have the quills and about the 
same habits. 

In Canada and Mexico the hair grows 
so long that it often trails on the ground. 

This little animal lives in trees and hol¬ 
low logs and eats woodland plants, tender 
roots, grasses and wild berries. 

And now comes the story of Stickers. 
It is a really true story about a porcupine, 
a dog, a black, woolly lamb, and three 
children who live on a ranch in south¬ 
eastern Oregon. 

The children’s Aunt Emma told me this 
story and I will tell it to you in her very 
own words, as nearly as I can remember 
them. 

“Phil and Roland and Betty Jean were 
all born in the big ranch house a few miles 
from the woods that skirt the broad acres 
known as ‘Three Pines Ranch.’ 


Stickers 


103 


“Phil and Roland were ten at the time 
of this story. They are twins, you see. 
Betty Jean was just four. 

“What jolly good times the children had 
together! The boys each had a dog and 
a pony, and Betty Jean had a pet lamb, 
which an old sheep herder had given her 
when it was just a few days old. 

“The boys rode Pinto, one of the ponies, 
to school every day, and, as they had 
to go through the woods, they learned 
many things about the little hidden crea¬ 
tures who live there. 

“I hadn’t seen the twins since they were 
six, and I had never laid eyes on Betty 
Jean. 

“One day I received a letter from the 
boys inviting me up to the Three Pines 
to spend my vacation. 

“ ‘Do come. Aunt Emma, please,’ the 
boys begged. ‘We haven’t seen you for 
such a long time and you’ve never seen 


104 


Children of Our Wilds 


our darling Betty Jean. We’ll go fishing 
and horseback riding and picnicking and 
everything. You just must come.’ 

“There were such funny scribbles and 
crosses and circles at the end of that 
letter, that it made me homesick for those 
children. The boys said Betty Jean made 
the scribbles. 

“Well, anyhow, I just packed my bag 
and took the train for Oregon that very 
evening.” 

(I forgot to tell you that Aunt Emma 
lives in California.) 

“I thought that train would never get 
there, but finally we pulled into the little 
station,” she went on. 

How she laughed as she told me about 
that meeting. 

“There were Mother and Dad, the twins, 
with their two dogs. Bob and Champ, Bet¬ 
ty Jean and Sambo, the pet lamb. Sam¬ 
bo,” she added “is black as ink from the 


Stickers 


105 


end of his nose to the tip of his long 
woolly tail. 

“It was a great welcome I got from 
that happy family,” laughed Aunt Em¬ 
ma. 

“We had supper and then we talked 
and talked about all the things that had 
happened since I had seen them. Then 
the boys said that they had planned a pic¬ 
nic for the next day. So we all went to 
bed early, in order to get an early start 
for the picnic in the morning. 

“What a jolly lot it was that crowded 
into the little old automobile the next 
day! 

“Mother and Dad and the lunch in 
front, the twins, Betty Jean and Sambo 
and I in the back seat. The dogs rode 
on the running board. 

“Bob was Phil’s dog, a big black-and- 
tan, with long, silky ears and eyes that 
could laugh and cry real tears. Champ 


106 


Children of Our Wilds 

belonged to Roland. He was a beautiful 
collie with soft, amber-colored eyes and 
hair long and glossy. And didn’t those 
dogs just love a picnic! 

“Pretty soon we came to the woods. The 
dogs went bounding off after the rabbits 
and squirrels. Dad and the boys took their 
poles and went a little way off to fish. 
Mother and I sat under the trees and 
talked, while Betty Jean and Sambo 
played together near by. 

“After a while it was time to eat. We 
got the lunch and spread it on the big can¬ 
vas. My! you never saw such a lunch. 
Fried chicken and sandwiches and stuffed 
eggs and chocolate cake and dates and 
candy and— everything! It just makes my 
mouth water now when I think about that 
lunch,” said Aunt Emma. 

“We were just ready to begin on that 
delicious feast when we heard Bob bark¬ 
ing furiously. 


Stickers 


107 


“ ‘He’s treed something, I expect,’ said 
Dad. 

“ ‘A porcupine!’ echoed Phil and Roland 
in the same breath. 

“Bob had always had a curiosity about 
porcupines, it seems, but had never got¬ 
ten close to one, as Phil had usually been 
along and had always kept him a safe 
distance from the prickly little creature. 

“We were all curious to see if it was a 
porcupine that was causing the rumpus, 
so we left the picnic banquet and followed 
Phil and Roland. Away we all went. Sam¬ 
bo too, kicking up his black heels and 
wagging his funny, woolly tail gayly. 

“Sure enough, when we reached the 
spot, there was Bob, backed up against 
the open end of a hollow log, barking at 
a porcupine an arm’s length away. The 
poor porcupine was trying to get to his 
nest, which, we learned afterward, was in 
the log where Bob had planted himself. 


108 


Children of Our Wilds 

“The queer little creature was all bris¬ 
tled out and looked like a huge pin-cushion 
full of long needles. 

“Bob was tormenting him by barking 
and snapping at him and coming as near 
to him as he dared. 

“Phil wanted to call Bob off, but Dad 
said he might as well learn his lesson 
about porcupines sooner as later. Dogs, 
you know, like boys and girls, sometimes 
have to learn through suffering,” Aunt 
Emma added. 

“Suddenly Bob made a quick movement 
toward the porcupine and he must have 
touched it, for, quicker than you could 
wink an eye, he drew back. With a howl 
of pain, he came whining and limping to 
Phil, while the porcupine disappeared into 
the hollow log. 

“Poor Bob! He rolled over and over at 
Phil’s feet, trying to get the smarting 
quills out of his nose. And poor Phil! 


Stickers 


109 



© L. JV. Brownell 

The queer little creature was all bristled out 

He nearly cried too, when he saw the big 
tears rolling down Bob’s face. 

“Dad and Fred pulled the cruel quills 
out as carefully as they could. And, really, 
Bob was as brave as a dog could be who 
has his nose full of porcupine quills. 

“All this time Champ sat a little way 
off, with his head cocked and a wise look 
in his amber eyes. He had once played 




110 


Children of Our Wilds 


tag with a porcupine, too, when he was a 
puppy, and he had never forgotten that 
day. Since then, whenever he met a por¬ 
cupine, he headed the other way. 

“Well,” said Aunt Emma, “we were all 
so busy with poor Bob that we didn’t 
notice that Sambo and Betty were play¬ 
ing by the log where the porcupine had 
disappeared. 

“All at once we heard an awful hulla¬ 
baloo. We hurried over and there was 
Sambo with his black nose full of por¬ 
cupine quills too. 

“ ‘Sambo smelled the kitty’s tail!’ wailed 
Betty, pointing toward the log. “Sure 
enough, there was the tip-end of the por¬ 
cupine’s tail sticking out of the log. We 
understood perfectly,” laughed Aunt Em¬ 
ma. “Sambo’s curiosity had got the best 
of him. He couldn’t resist meddling with 
the end of that funny tail. 

“Well, we carried the little black fel- 


Stickers 


111 


low over and laid him on the grass beside 
Bob. Such a bleating and baa-ing you 
never heard, as Mother and I pulled the 
sharp stickers out of his soft little nose. 

“By this time Bob was all right and 
Dad and the boys had gone over to the 
car. 

Pretty soon they came back with a 
big wooden box, 

“ ‘What are you going to do with the 
box?’ we asked. 

“ ‘We’re going to get that porcupine,’ 
answered Dad. 

“And get him they did,” said Aunt Em¬ 
ma, “and this is how. 

“While Dad held the box, Phil and 
Roland tipped the log up and shook it 
very hard until the porcupine slipped out 
into the box. Then Dad clapped the lid 
on. 

“So,” said Aunt Emma, “we gathered 
up the fried chicken and the rest of the 


112 


Children of Our Wilds 

good things and started for home with 
Bob between Phil’s knees and sad little 
Sambo curled up on Betty’s lap. The por¬ 
cupine was tied on behind. 

“Some picnic,” laughed Aunt Emma, 
“but I wouldn’t have missed it for any¬ 
thing. 

“They took the porcupine home and 
built him a nice pen and named him 
‘Stickers.’ 

“They still had him when I left for 
home,” she added, “but the other day I 
got a letter from Phil. He told me they 
had taken Stickers back to his woodland 
home and turned him loose. 

“ ‘He wasn’t happy caged up,’ Phil 
wrote. “ ‘Anyway, Aunt Emma, you can’t 
tame a porcupine, and what’s the good of 
having a pet that you can’t teach to love 
you?’ ” 

Aunt Emma smiled as she finished the 
story. 


Stickers 


113 


“I’m glad they let Stickers go,” she said. 
“If he had been meant for a pet, he 
wouldn’t have been given those queer, 
sharp, dangerous barbed spines.” 

And now, in closing this story, let me 
tell you that you must never kill a porcu¬ 
pine unless you are lost and in need of 
food. 

Because the meat is good for food and 
because the porcupine - can be so easily 
caught, many a lost hunter’s life has been 
saved by this harmless little creature. 

Never forget this law of the woods. 



Courtesy of the U. S. Bureau of Biological Survey 

The rabbits* coats are about the color of the fields about them 

STUBBY TAIL 

CTUBBY TAIL was a wild cottontail 
^ rabbit. His home was a clump of wil¬ 
lows that grew close to a little creek. 

Here Mother Cottontail had made her 
nest of weeds and dried grass. It was 
a warm, cozy nest, lined with fur which 
she had pulled from her own little body. 
There were five of the baby rabbits. 




stubby Tail 


115 


Each little fellow had a tan-gray coat, thin 
silken ears and eyes set so that he could 
see both ways at once. 

On a June day one of these rabbit chil¬ 
dren had an adventure. And if it hadn’t 
been for the kind little boy who found 
him and put him back in his nest, it would 
have been the end of him. 

The little boy told me the story and I 
wrote it down in his own words. Black- 
eyed Johnny loves animals and he wants 
to tell you this story. 

First let me tell you a few interesting 
things about these timid, wild creatures 
that are found in every part of our coun¬ 
try. 

, The cottontail has many cousins, you 
know. There is the jack rabbit, who looks 
a great deal like the cottontail. But he is 
larger and his hind hopping feet are much 
stronger. 

When he is chased by dogs or startled 


116 


Children of Our Wilds 

the jack rabbit goes bounding over the 
fields in swift, graceful leaps. He can 
jump many times his own height. If you 
want some fun, try being a jack rabbit. 
See if you can jump the distance of your 
own height. 

Some rabbits burrow in the ground and 
make their nests far underground. Their 
babies are born blind and have almost no 
hair on their little bodies at first. 

Then there is the snowshoe rabbit. In 
winter he is as white as the snow itself. 
But in summer his coat is the color of the 
fields where he lives. When winter comes 
again, he changes to his snow-white coat. 
And he gets a brand new pair of fur snow- 
shoes for his hind hopping feet each win¬ 
ter, too. These keep him from sinking into 
the snow as he bounds away from his 
enemies. 

Mother Rabbit feeds her babies just as 
a cat does her kittens. For the first few 


stubby Tail 


117 


weeks they are helpless little creatures. 
By and by they discover they have two 
strong hind feet and that those feet were 
made for hopping. Then Mother Silk Ears 
knows it is time to teach them the rabbit 
wisdom that they will soon need. 

Rabbits talk by the sign language. 
Rubbing noses is one way. I have always 
wondered what secrets they are telling 
each other when they rub noses together. 
Such funny, snubby, wiggling little noses. 

The first lesson a mother rabbit teaches 
her babies is to “freeze” to the ground 
when she gives the signal. These signals 
are made by thumping on the ground with 
her strong hind feet. The baby rabbit 
soon learns that these are danger signals. 

The rabbits’ coats are about the color 
of the fields about them. They seem to 
know that if they “go dead”—lie low and 
very still—the enemy will not be likely to 
see them. 


118 


Children of Our Wilds 

When the wild mother hears a strange 
sound, she thumps the ground hard with 
her hind feet. A little rabbit knows that 
sound just as you know your mother’s 
voice. At once he freezes to the ground 
and lies perfectly still until the danger is 
past. Then he scampers to his mother in 
answer to more thumps. 

It is a pretty sight to see a family of 
cottontails feeding on the grass about 
their nests in the evening or early morn¬ 
ing. Their little turned-up tails look like 
tiny white powder puifs blown about in 
the wind, as they hop here and there. 

And now comes the story of Stubby Tail. 
I wrote it down just as Johnny told it to 
me. 

He told me about the fun he and his 
cousin Sam had on his Uncle Jack’s ranch, 
too. Such jolly good times riding horse¬ 
back and going swimming, herding sheep 
and turkeys, milking the cows, gathering 


Stubby Tail 


119 


eggs and all the things that boys do on 
a ranch. It made me wish every boy I 
know could spend a summer on a ranch. 

Well, here is the story of Stubby Tail 
and I wish you could have seen Johnny’s 
black eyes shine when he told me about 
that little runaway rabbit child. 

“The very next day after school was 
out last June, Dad took me up to Uncle 
Jack’s ranch in his new car. It is about 
a hundred miles from the city and is 
known as Loma Alta Ranch. It is away 
up in the foothills of California. At night 
when you go to sleep you can hear the 
cowbells tinkling off in the hills, and the 
stars look like they are just a little way 
off. 

“We started for the ranch early that 
morning, before the sun was up. But no 
matter how early you get up, it seems as 
if you can never beat the birds and squir¬ 
rels. 


120 


Children of Our Wilds 


“A mother quail had her children out 
hunting their breakfasts alongside the 
road. As soon as she heard us, she gave 
a funny, low call and in one second there 
wasn’t a quail in sight. Every one of them 
disappeared as if by magic. 

“We saw a billy owl sitting on the fence, 
too. Dad stopped and I got out and went 
over and looked at him close. He looked 
so funny and wise as he blinked his big, 
round eyes at me. He could twist his head 
nearly all the way around, too.” 

“And a mother skunk took her family 
of kittens across the road right in front 
of us. Luckily for us. Dad saw her in time. 
Would you think that such a pretty crea¬ 
ture could carry such a scent bag? 

“As soon as the mother skunk got across 
the road, we started on. Suddenly, just as 
we rounded a curve. Dad threw on the 
brakes. I nearly fell oif the seat. A little 
baby cottontail rabbit hopped out in the 


Stubby Tail 


121 



© L. W. Brownell 

A little baby cottontail rabbit 


road, right in front of us. The front wheel 
almost struck him. We both saw,him at 
the same time. 

“He lay there so still, we thought at first 
he had been hit. But he was only playing 
dead, as his mother had taught him to do. 
When I picked him up, his little heart was 
beating wildly. I held him against my 
cheek and he wiggled his nose as if he 
were trying to tell me something. Then 




122 


Children of Our Wilds 


he snuggled down into my hands and shut 
his eyes. He seemed to know he had found 
a friend. 

“He was only about four inches long 
and Dad said he could not have been more 
than two weeks old. His little gray coat 
was as soft as silk and his tiny, turned-up 
tail looked like a piece of cotton sticking 
to him. 

“We tried to give him some milk which 
we had brought along in the thermos bot¬ 
tle. I held him and Dad put the cup to his 
mouth. At first he kicked it away with his 
feet. By and by he got a taste of the milk 
and then you should have seen him go 
after it with his little pink tongue. 

“Dad thought if we put him in the grass 
inside the fence, his mother would soon 
find him. But when I put him down, he 
looked so little and so lonesome that I 
begged Dad to try and find his nest. I 
just couldn’t leave him alone. Dad thought 


Stubby Tail 


123 



© Underwood and Underwood 

Sure enough! There was the fur-lined nest, with four baby 
cottontails in it 

the nest must be in the willows along the 
creek, as rabbits always nest in the 
bushes. 

“We parked the car and climbed 
through the wire fence. By and by we 
came to a place where the grass was eaten 
off clean for quite a space around a clump 
of willows. Dad was sure the rabbits had 




124 


Children of Our Wilds 

done it. We pushed aside the bushes and 
peeked in. Sure enough! There was the 
little fur-lined nest, with four of the dear¬ 
est baby cottontails you ever saw. And 
every one of them was just like that little 
runaway in my hands. 

“I put him into the nest with his broth¬ 
ers and sisters and wasn’t he glad to find 
his folks! He hopped around, rubbing 
noses with every one of them. Maybe he 
was kissing them. Or he may have been 
telling them about the wonderful world 
beyond the wire fence—I don’t know.” 

Johnny said the cunningest thing about 
that little rabbit was his stubby, turned- 
up, cotton tail. And so we named him 
Stubby Tail. 

And Johnnj^ wondered if Mother Silk 
Ears ever knew that one of her children 
had an adventure—and which one. 


SMILES 


' I ^ HE silver fox is the king of fur bear- 
ers. His precious pelt is so valuable 
that it is worn only by the rich and royal. 

When our country was new, the woods 
were full of these beautiful animals and 
hundreds of trappers made their living by 
trapping them. But now great cities stand 
where once the foxes roamed and these 
precious fur bearers are becoming very 
scarce. 

For that reason many silver foxes are 
now raised on fox farms, by men who 
make a study of fur farming. 

Many of these farms are in the Pacific 
northwest. See if you can find this part of 
the country on the map. It extends from 
northern California on up through Ore¬ 
gon, Washington and Canada. 


It was on the Golden Gate Fox Farm, a 


125 


126 


Children of Our Wilds 


few miles from San Francisco, that I 
found the beautiful silver fox, “Smiles.” 

Perhaps you think that is a queer name 
for a fox, but it seems that this fox really 
smiles. 

The manager of the farm is Mr. Haskin. 
He is a tall, quiet man with kind gray eyes 
and a big, crooked smile. He has about a 
hundred foxes on his farm and he loves 
every one of them. He calls them all by 
name and talks to them just as you would 
to your dog. 

When I asked him to tell me a fox story 
to put in this little book, he thought a mo¬ 
ment. Then he said, “Come, I’ll show you 
my fox children first. If you can pick out 
Smiles, I’ll tell you her story.” 

He filled his pockets with dried figs and 
I followed him, wondering if I should 
know Smiles when we came to her. 

First he took me to the playground. He 
explained that foxes love to play and that 


Smiles 


127 


they must be allowed to have their fun or 
they will become discontented and unhap¬ 
py. They must also be allowed to run and 
exercise, he said, in order to- keep healthy. 

The playground is a large grassy space 
enclosed with wire netting. Here a dozen 
young foxes were having the time of their 
lives. 

Some were running races. Some were 
chasing their tails. Others were rolling 
and tumbling over each other like a lot of 
happy puppies. 

One seemed to be trying out his skill 
as a high jumper. He would leap into the 
air like an athlete, looping his supple body 
in graceful curves and landing on his feet 
as lightly as a kitten. 

But the pet sport was the whirligig. It 
was a large revolving disc in the center of 
the playground. Possibly you have ridden 
on one of these fun-makers at a carnival 
sometime. 


128 


Children of Our Wilds 


This whirligig was kept whirling by 
the weight and motion of the foxes as 
they raced round and round at lightning 
speed. The faster they ran, the faster 
went the whirligig. 

When a fox fell off, he would get up, 
watch his chance and leap back on. 

It was a pretty sight, as well as a funny 
one. The foxes looked like black streaks 
against the sunlight, as they whirled and 
leaped and fell. 

And I must tell you about the champion 
whirler. He was the only one who did not 
fall off. He knew just how to balance him¬ 
self and how to sway with the motion of 
the whirligig. 

And, would you believe it? Three of 
those young rascals got their foxy noses 
together and decided to crowd the winning 
fox off. But he was too clever for them. 
He was the undisputed “champ” of the 
whirligig and he knew it. 


Smiles 


129 


I was so fascinated with the antics of 
those youngsters that I could hardly leave 
the playground. But I was anxious to find 
Smiles and get the story. And so we left 
the playground and started the rounds 
of the pens. 

There were about fifty of these pens. 
In each was a pair of foxes. It seems that 
foxes have their favorites just as people 
have and are much happier if they are 
allowed to choose their own mates and 
playfellows. 

As we approached the pens, the foxes 
came running to the fence for their after¬ 
noon treat of dried figs. When they saw 
a stranger with their master, they slunk 
away and looked at me with distrust in 
their curious, inquiring eyes. 

When they discovered the Red Fox scarf 
which I was wearing, they disapproved of 
me even more. One of them stole slyly 
up to the fence and gazed wonderingly 


130 


Children of Our Wilds 


into the glassy eyes of my Alaskan cap¬ 
tive. I wondered what his thoughts were 
as he sniffed at it, and then backed off 
with suspicion in his eyes. 

Finally we came to the last pen. Sud¬ 
denly a yelp of delight greeted us as a 
streak of silver shot into view. What a 
beautiful creature she was! From the end 
of her pointed nose to the milk-white tip 
of her arched tail, she was perfect. 

Her black, silver-tipped fur glistened in 
the sunlight. Her topaz eyes gleamed like 
fiery gems against black velvet. 

When her master opened the gate, she 
leaped upon him with a joyous bark and 
wound herself about his neck. Then she 
peeked slyly around his shoulder at me, a 
happy grin on her cunning, pointed face. 

I knew, without a doubt, that it was 
Smiles. 

And presently, out of the bedroom cor¬ 
ner, trotted her lovely mate. Shadow. He 


Smiles 


131 



© Publishers’ Photo Service 

From the end of her pointed nose to the milk-white tip of her 
tail, Smiles was perfect 

was well named, too, I thought, for, being 
much larger and darker, he looked like a 
beautiful, black shadow beside his lovely 
queen. 

And while Smiles and Shadow feasted 
from the hand of their master, he told me 
the story. He said I might write it in this 
little book for you boys and girls to read. 

There were five of them—Smiles and 




132 


Children of Our Wilds 


her four brothers. The day they were 
born their beautiful young mother dis¬ 
owned them. Sometimes wild mothers de¬ 
sert their young, it seems, when they are 
born in captivity. One by one, she picked 
the blind, helpless fox babies up in her 
mouth and carried them to the far corner 
of the pen. There she left them—mother¬ 
less. She would have nothing to do with 
them and the poor little orphans would 
have died if it hadn’t been for another 
mother on the Golden Gate Fox Farm. 

Snowball was the name of the white 
Persian cat that adopted the five fox chil¬ 
dren. She had two fluffy little kittens of 
her own beside the fox babies. 

And so for months Snowball mothered 
her stepchildren just as she did her own, 
until they were old enough to feed them¬ 
selves. 

And every day Snowball gave them a 
“tongue” bath. She insisted on a daily 


Smiles 


133 



© Publishers’ Photo Service 

Smiles’s lovely mate, Shadow 


bath for every one of her children. Some¬ 
times, Mr. Haskin said, the foxes objected 
to the rub down. Then there was trouble. 
But Snowball always won out. She would 
cuff them soundly until they consented to 
have their fur washed, cat fashion. 

So, with Snowball for a foster mother. 




134 


Children of Our Wilds 


they grew into fine, healthy foxes. But 
Smiles was the finest of the lot and be¬ 
came the darling of the pens. She was the 
pet of the farm. 

Every morning after breakfast Smiles 
and Shadow have a frolic. Sometimes 
Smiles plays with little Carol Haskin, who 
is just four years old. Carol takes a rope 
or small branch and drags it on the 
ground and Smiles pounces on it and plays 
with it as if it were some live thing. But 
she is very gentle with the little girl and 
never hurts her nor plays roughly with 
her. 

There are two things of which Smiles is 
very much afraid. One is a camera. The 
other is a dog. 

Once she was taken to the State fair. 
Suddenly, without warning, she sniffed 
the air, then in terror she crawled inside 
of her master’s coat and hid. Mr. Haskin 
could not imagine what had frightened 


Smiles 


135 


her until he discovered a collie dog half 
a block away. It was quite a while before 
Smiles could be persuaded to come out 
again. 

“How much would you take for Smiles?” 
I asked Mr. Haskin. 

He stroked her glossy fur as she wound 
herself closer about him. 

“Why,” he said slowly, “I wouldn’t sell 
Smiles—not for all the money—in—the 
—world.” 

And I knew he spoke the truth. As we 
left the beautiful Silver Queen and her 
black Shadow, I looked back. The smile 
was fading from her charming face, but, 
in her amber eyes shone the magic light 
that is the love language of the children 
of the wild. 



© Publishers’ Photo Service 

Coons are curious creatures 


SANKY 

'^HIS is the story of Sanky, the coon. 

It was told to me by a little black boy 
who lives away down South where the cot¬ 
ton grows. In summer he goes off to the 
cotton fields and picks the snow-white cot¬ 
ton. In winter he is errand boy down at 
a southern beach hotel. 

I met him there last winter. And my, 
136 



Sanky 


137 


wasn’t he grand in his scarlet uniform and 
cap! He is just twelve and as straight and 
tall as a slender sapling. 

They called him “Happy”—just Happy. 
And no wonder, for he was brimful of 
chuckles and seemed to be trying to hold 
back a laugh all the time. 

Wherever Happy was, there was always 
a crowd of children. One day I asked a 
little boy what made all the children love 
Happy so. 

“Oh,” he said, “it’s always fun where 
Happy is. He knows all about alligators 
and snakes and turtles and fish and birds 
and ’possums and coons and all the ani¬ 
mals that live in these swamps and 
woods.” 

“Does he really?” I asked. 

“Yes,” he declared, “and this afternoon 
we are going down to the beach with him 
and he is going to tell us a story about a 
real live coon he once caught.” 


138 


Children of Our Wilds 

Right then I made up my mind to get 
an invitation to that beach party. 

“Oh, dear,” I sighed, “I’ve never heard 
a story about a coon—not a really true 
story. Won’t you ask Happy if I can come 
along this afternoon?” 

My little friend hesitated. 

“He’s kind of bashful around ladies,” 
he explained, “but I’ll ask him.” And 
away he ran. 

“Tell Happy I’ll bring along the lunch 
if he’ll let me come,” I called after him. 

Pretty soon he was back. 

“Happy says, ‘Sure you can come and 
will you please bring some ’lasses candy 
like you brought the other day?’ ” 

“I’ll be there with the ’lasses candy,” 
I promised. “Where do we meet?” 

“Down on the beach, at two o’clock, by 
the leaning palm tree.” And away he 
scampered. 

I could hardly wait. Long before the 


Sanky 


139 


time, I was there, with the biggest choco¬ 
late cake and a box of molasses taffy. 

Pretty soon, here they came, nine of 
them—six boys and three girls. I was glad 
there were some girls. It made me think 
of the Pied Piper story, to see those boys 
and girls all following after Happy. 

We decided to have the lunch first. Well, 
in about two shakes of a rabbit’s tail, 
there wasn’t a crumb of that chocolate 
cake left nor a speck of the candy. 

Then Happy propped himself up against 
the leaning palm and began the story of 
Sanky, the coon. The right name is really 
raccoon, you know, but everyone calls it 
“coon” for short. 

Happy’S Story of the “Coon Chile” 

“Seems like just the other day that my 
pa and me found Sanky. If you all never 
seen a baby coon, you ain’t seen nothin’ 
cute, yet,” began Happy. 


140 


Children of Our Wilds 


“1 was just a little boy then, ’bout nine 
years old. My pa and me was fishin’ that 
Sunday, in Swamp Creek, a couple o’ miles 
from our house. After while, I got tired 
fishin’ and I went up stream a way to see 
if I could find some turtle eggs. Lots of 
turtle eggs in Swamp Creek and I know 
just where, too. 

“By and by I see some coon tracks. I 
know coon tracks ’cause they look just 
like a baby’s foot—just ’zactly like a 
baby’s foot, heel and toes and all. You 
know that is ’cause a coon puts his whole 
hind foot down flat when he walks. He 
don’t walk on his toes like a dog or cat. 
He walks like a bear. 

“But those were the littlest coon tracks 
I ever see in my life. Only ’bout an inch 
and a half long. ‘Must be a water fairy 
round here,’ I say to myself. But I knew 
all the time it was a baby coon. 

“Pretty soon I hear the most terrible 


Sanky 


141 



^ L. W. Brownell 


The prettiest little coon 


racket in the trees over my head. It 
sound as if all the bluejays in the world 
was havin’ a quarrel. 

“I look up in that big cottonwood tree 
and there was the cutest baby coon, ’bout 
as big as a kitten. He had been makin’ 






142 


Children of Our Wilds 


a raid on the birds’ nests. Coons love birds’ 
eggs, you know. The bluejays were flyin’ 
all ’round him, tryin’ to pick out his eyes. 

‘T made up my mind to get that coon 
and take him home for a pet. I climbed 
up the tree and crawled out on the limb 
where he was. He was so busy fightin’ 
off the birds, he didn’t see me. His back 
was toward me and ’fore he knew I was 
there, I had that coon chile by the tail. 

“Oh, how that baby did cry! And when 
his mammy answered him, it made my 
hair stand on end, ’cause that is the worst 
sound in the world, when a mother coon 
calls to her child. 

“I skinned down that old tree with that 
cryin’ coon inside my coat. I ran like the 
wind till I came to the place where my 
pa was fishin’. I didn’t look ’hind me once 
for fear that old coon was after me. 

“ ‘What you all got under your coat, 
chile?’ my pa asks. 


143 


Sanky 

“When I showed him, he laughed and 
laughed. ‘That’s the prettiest little coon 
I ever see,’ he told me, ‘and, I declare, he 
looks just like Grandpappy Sanky, with 
his gray hair and his black eyes. What 
you all goin’ to do with him?’ 

“ ‘I’m goin’ to keep him for my pet,’ I 
told him, ‘and I guess I’ll call him Sanky, 
’cause he do look like Pappy Sanky.’ 

“My pa said the little fellow was about 
six months old. He was ’fraid he was too 
young to take away from his mammy. 
Coons stay with their mothers till they are 
about a year old. 

“But I knew what coons eat and I prom¬ 
ised to take care of him. One of my 
friends, Ulysses Brown, had a pet coon 
and I said I would ask him all about how 
to take care of this baby coon. 

“After ’while Pa gave in and we went 
along home. But when my ma saw him, 
she just threw her hands up in the air. 


144 


Children of Our Wilds 


“ ‘Law sakes, Happy/ she said, ‘you 
can’t keep that coon chile. Coons is too 
full of mischief. That coon of ’Lysses 
Brown’s got his nose into everything. He 
opens all the cupboard doors and boxes 
and he has to be rocked to sleep every 
night, too. Besides, who is goin’ to take 
care of this coon chile when you am down 
to the big hotel?’ 

“I hadn’t thought of that. And all the 
time Sanky was cryin’ and whinin’ like 
a human baby. 

“At last I gave in. I begged ma to let 
me keep him till the next day and prom¬ 
ised to take him back to his home in the 
mornin’. 

“ ‘All right, but remember, he goes back 
to-morrow,’ she said. ‘Anyhow, don’t you 
all know it’s wicked to steal a baby away 
from his mammy?’ 

“I promised that I would take him back 
to-morrow, sure. Just then Sanky spied 


145 


Sanky 

a cricket crawlin’ long on the floor. He 
stopped cryin’ and his black eyes got 
bright like beads as he watched the crick¬ 
et. Pretty soon he jumped right out of 
my arms and hopped on that bug before 
you could wink your eye. Then he walked 
over to the corner and started whinin’ 
again. 

‘T put some cornmeal mush and milk in 
a bowl and tried to feed him, but he 
wouldn’t have it. Then I remembered that 
coons are very fond of anything bright 
and shiny. Sometimes hunters hang a 
piece of tin over a trap on a log and it 
attracts the attention of the coon in the 
moonlight. Coons prowl at night, you 
know, for food. I have heard that a coon 
will stand on his hind feet and amuse 
himself by strikin’ the shining metal just 
to see it twirl. Of course he is so inter¬ 
ested in his plaything that he does not see 
the trap and usually gets caught. 


146 


Children of Our Wilds 


“So I got a shiny tin cup and put the 
cornmeal mush in it and set it down in 
front of Sanky. Then I hid behind the 
door to see what he would do. 

“Coons are curious creatures. By and 
by he came over and walked all around 
the cup. Then he looked inside. Next he 
put his hands, both of them, right down 
in the cup and brought them up full of 
mush. He took a little taste and then he 
went for it and ate it every bit. 

“You know a coon’s front paws are just 
like hands. There are four long, thin fin¬ 
gers and a little thumb. They look like 
ladies’ fingers. And there is no hair on 
the palms, either. Just black skin that 
looks like a black kid glove. 

“After Sanky had his supper, I made 
him a soft bed in the corner he had 
picked out for himself. Then I got a little 
rope and tied him to a chair. I was ’fraid 
he might run away in the night. 



© L. W. Brownell 


A coon^s front paws are just like little hands 




148 


Children of Our Wilds 


“But jus’ try and keep a rope on a coon. 
He hasn’t any neck, you know. His head 
g-rows right out of his body. So Sanky 
took his paws and slipped the rope off 
jus’ as fast as I could put it on. 

“I couldn’t bear to leave him sittin’ 
there alone all night, so I decided to take 
him to bed with me. He tucked his little 
pointed nose down close to me and whined 
softly, just like a lonesome baby. I tried 
to comfort him but he only cried harder. 
Right then I promised that coon chile 
something. 

“Right out loud I said, ‘Sanky, if you’ll 
stop your cryin’. I’ll take you home to 
your mammy to-morrow. And listen, 
Sanky,’ I says, ‘I’ll never steal another 
animal baby away from his mammy again 
as long as I live. No—not neverf 

“I think he understood ’cause he rolled 
himself up into a little fur ball, with his 
pretty ringed tail wrapped around him 


149 


Sanky 

and he went to sleep for a little while. 

“In the morning, I got up and gave him 
some mush and eggs for breakfast. 
Coons eat almost everythin’, but they love 
eggs best. 

“After breakfast, I put him under my 
coat and started for the woods, to find 
Sanky’s mammy. 

“As we came into the woods, he poked 
his pointed little nose out and sniffed the 
air. His eyes got full of twinkles. He 
knew those woods and he knew he was 
goin’ home. 

“First thing I know, I was followin’ 
along the stream, lookin’ for the tree 
where I found Sanky, and I came up on a 
funny sight. There was a full-grown coon 
sitting on the bank sousin’ a dead rabbit 
up and down in the creek. You know, 
coons won’t eat any meat unless they 
wash it first. Wild coons or tame ones, 
they all have that habit. 


150 


Children of Our Wilds 



© Ewing Galloway 

I knew it was Sanky’s mamma 


“I hid behind the grapevines and 
watched that old coon souse that rabbit 
up and down in the creek. She had it in 
both her hands and she washed it and 
washed it. Then she tore it apart and ate 
it. 

“All at once, Sanky discovered her. He 
gave a pitiful cry and she heard him. Her 




Sanky 151 

terrible screech made me shiver. I knew it 
was Sanky’s mammy. 

“I put him down on the ground and 
watched them from behind the vines. In 
about two shakes of their fluffy ringed 
tails, they skinned up the Cottonwood tree 
together. I saw the hole where they dis¬ 
appeared and I knew that was where 
their nest must be. So I climbed up and 
looked in. 

“Away down deep, in the heart of that 
old hollow tree, was the prettiest sight I 
ever see in my born days. There was that 
old coon and six little fur balls all rolled 
up together. 

“I never made a sound ’cause I knew 
that one of those fur balls was awful 
sleepy. 

“I just climbed down and went away. 
And as long as I live, ITl never steal an¬ 
other baby animal away from his mammy. 
No—not never.” 


152 


Children of Our Wilds 

And I know now what made the chil¬ 
dren love Happy. And I like to think 
about the little black boy, away down 
South, who promised Sanky he’d never 
steal another animal baby away from 
his mammy. “No—not never” 

And so we will leave the children of our 
wilds with their wild mothers who love 
them as your own mother loves you. 

If you watch these children of the woods 
and study their ways, you will learn to 
love them. In some strange way, they 
will know that you are their friend. And 
once they are sure of your friendship, 
their eyes will shine when they hear your 
voice and their wild hearts will beat fast 
with joy at your coming. 




















































































































































































































